


this is good a place to fall as any

by MissMarissa



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Horny Bellamy, Horny Clarke, Praise Kink, Rated L, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and they just want to bang, basically i played fast and loose with supernatural concepts, bellamy is a witch, but not a very good one, clarke is a witch, that becomes very resolved, vaguely supernatural elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6626929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMarissa/pseuds/MissMarissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke swears she didn’t mean to end up here.  But honestly, teleportation is not her strong suit, a fact of which she is fully aware. Which is why she’s practicing at two in the morning.  Earlier, she successfully made it to the sitting room and back a few times, so she thought she’d change it up and try the kitchen this time.  She’s thirsty, might as well kill two birds with one stone.  </p><p>Again, she can’t stress enough: This was not intentional.</p><p>-----</p><p> </p><p>  <b>~Runner-up for Best Smut Oneshot in the 2016 Bellarke Fanfiction Awards~</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	this is good a place to fall as any

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Bedroom Hymns by Florence + The Machine

Clarke swears she didn’t mean to end up here.  But honestly, teleportation is not her strong suit, a fact of which she is fully aware. Which is why she’s practicing at two in the morning.  Earlier, she successfully made it to the sitting room and back a few times, so she thought she’d change it up and try the kitchen this time.  She’s thirsty, might as well kill two birds with one stone.  

Again, she can’t stress enough: This was not intentional.  

It doesn’t change the fact that she is standing at the side of Bellamy Blake’s bed, unable to tear her gaze from his hand, casually wrapped around the base his erect cock.  The moonlight streams in through his window and affords her a generous view of his stretched-out body.  He’s lying on his back, his free arm thrown over his eyes while his chest expands with short pants through his parted lips.  He’s shirtless, which, she already knows is how he sleeps.  But the way his boxer briefs are situated makes her think that they were haphazardly yanked down, as if he was fucking _desperate_ to release his cock from its confines.  And _fuck,_ his cock is truly a work of art.  She’ll admit, she’s pictured it in her head.  Vividly.  Her mind has conjured up appearances in countless dreams, but she’s not surprised that her imagination had nothing on the real thing.  It’s beautiful, jutting out from his broad frame, the tip dark and throbbing where beads of pre-come have already gathered… He must have only just gotten started because his movements are languid, like he’s still deciding just how he wants to do this.   

When he swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, she forgets to stifle a groan.  Suddenly aware of an intruder, Bellamy swings his arm out and grazes her body with his hand as he sits straight up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed.  As if by instinct, he twists his hand into her shirt and yanks her whole body forward and into his field of view.  She’s barely able to catch herself, and if it weren’t for his strong grip on her shirt, the momentum would have knocked her right over.  She doesn’t realize her eyes are closed until she relaxes her face and un-squeezes them.  She opens them, and _of course_ his cock is still in her direct line of sight. 

“Clarke?”  Her breath hitches at the coarseness of his voice and she snaps her gaze up to his.  Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but she can’t seem to get words out.  He furrows his brows as he studies her face, “What the fuck are you doing in here?” 

“Teleporting…  I was practicing.”

The corners of his lips quirk up in amusement, “Okay.  But what are you doing _here_?” 

She hears the exasperation in her own voice, “I don’t fucking know!  I was trying to go to the kitchen for a glass of water!”  There’s no reason why she’d show up here instead of the kitchen.  She focused intently on the exact location of the kitchen floor where she hoped to arrive.  Sure, her thoughts were a little clouded by thoughts of Bellamy, but that’s not new.  She’s _always_ fucking thinking about him.  There’s no reason for this time to be any different than the other times she teleported tonight.  Unless…  

Her jaw goes slack for a moment, “You were thinking about me.” 

He frowns harder, “Excuse me?” 

Clarke nods as she puts pieces together in her head, “ _You_ were thinking about _me_.  That’s what pulled me here!  I was mid-transfer and you must have drawn me to you.  Like a magnet.” 

He’s silent, but he doesn’t deny it.  The muscle in his jaw pops, which is distracting because it is one of her favorite things.  He clears his throat, but doesn’t elaborate on her allegation.    

She nods again and launches into a train of thought, unable to stop herself from getting obnoxiously scientific about it all.  “Mid-teleport is a vulnerable point.  If two people are thinking about each other, strong thoughts could ‘pull’ one of them to the other in a state of shift vulnerability.  That’s why the first thing they teach us is to clear our minds of errant thoughts, so that we’re not so vul-” 

Bellamy cuts her off, “You were thinking about me?” 

Clarke feels a heat bloom across her cheeks, and she’s grateful for the dim lighting and cascade of blonde hair hiding the bright red tips of her ears. 

“Idontthinkso,” she blurts out.  _Damn, that wasn’t even a little bit convincing._   She sighs, “Even if I was, what does it matter?” 

His voice is rough, “It matters.”  She realizes that his hand is still fisted at the base of his cock, and her breath hitches when he tightens his grip on himself.  Her gaze is transfixed… The room could burn down around her, and she couldn’t look away from him. 

“Maybe I was…”  An involuntary shiver shoots through her body when he begins to slowly stroke himself. 

He nods, a rough “hmm” escaping his throat in response. 

It’s two in the morning, so she can’t be blamed for being a little slow on the uptake, but it suddenly dawns on her.  “You were thinking of… _me.”_   She pauses, “While you were-” Bellamy’s darkened gaze makes her legitimately weak in the knees. 

He nods, “Go ahead and finish that sentence, Clarke.” 

She steadies the trembling of her vocal chords, “You’re thinking of me, while you’re getting yourself off.”  She feels herself getting wetter and squeezes her thighs together in an attempt to both contain herself and gain some much-needed friction. 

He smirks, still slowly stroking himself with his hand.  “Yeah, Clarke.  That’s right…” He chuckles and it is not fair that he can so easily form a coherent sentence.

Clarke nods and all she can manage is a breathy, “Oh...” 

Bellamy raises a challenging eyebrow, and she knows the next move is hers to make.  She cautiously steps between his open legs and he spreads them a little wider for her.  She traps his wrist in her hand to still his movements, gives him ample time to back out or resist her.  He doesn’t.  She pulls his hand away from his cock and her eyes widen at the way it slaps against his abdomen.  She could look at it all fucking day.  It’s _that_ perfect.  She wants to touch it… hold it… and _fuck,_ taste it, and she can’t decide what she wants to do first…  She drops to her knees in front of him, still settled between his legs, and then scrapes her blunt fingernails up his bare thighs.  A thrill shoots through her when his dick twitches without even being touched.  She draws her gaze to his again and revels in the pop of his jaw muscle and the bob of his Adam’s apple as she bites her lower lip between her teeth.  

Curious, she asks, “What do you think about… when you’re thinking of me?” 

He clears his throat, “What?” 

“What am I doing in your fantasies?”  

Bellamy huffs, “A good number of them start just like this.”  Clarke gives a “Hmm” in agreement.  He continues, “Although, you’re usually touching me.”

Clarke quirks an eyebrow, “Usually?  Not always?” 

He smirks, “Sometimes you’re touching yourself instead.” 

She mutters a “fuck” under her breath as she wraps her hand around his cock, marveling at the velvety soft skin over his hard-as-steel shaft.  His answering groan is obscene and rings in her ears while she slowly strokes him.  She swears she can feel his pleasure course through her own body.  He leans back on his hands and she grins at the fact that he’s made room for her head, as if it’s an invitation to suck him off.  Whether it’s intentional or not, she’s happy to take advantage.  She presses his cock up against his abdomen and lowers her mouth to him, then licks a strong line from the base to his tip, swirling her tongue around the head before closing her mouth over him.  His fingers tangle themselves in her hair, and _fuck_ that’s a turn-on.  Before she gets the chance to take him any deeper, he pulls her head away.  She groans at the way he tugs on her scalp, angling her head to face him fully.  She sees the light on his bedside table flicker on without being touched.  Showoff…

Bellamy searches her eyes, “What are we doing, here, Clarke?” 

She pauses a moment before answering.  “I think we’ve been waiting a long time for this, Bellamy…”    

He nods, and she thinks the glimmer in his eye holds as much _relief_ as it does triumph.  “Fuck… Get up here.”  He pulls her up higher to slant his mouth over hers.  He kisses her hot and dirty and _holy fuck_ this is exactly how she imagined he’d kiss her.  Demanding and deliberate, he cups her jaw in his hand and angles her head just how he wants it so he can deepen the kiss.  A noise escapes her, something between a groan and a whimper, and she feels his smile against her lips before he pulls away. 

Bellamy strokes her cheek tenderly with his thumb as he thinks about what he wants to do next.  His eyes trail down her body and he narrows his eyes in puzzlement, as if he’s surprised she isn’t as naked as he is. 

“You’re wearing too much clothing.”

Clarke laughs, “How about you do something about it.” 

Bellamy nods with a smirk, “Yeah, alright...”  He wraps his hands around her ribcage and helps her stand up.  He methodically pulls her shirt up and as soon as a sliver of skin is revealed, he attaches his mouth to it, like he can’t wait another second to taste her.  His need for her only fuels her own.  He sucks a bruise into her side, just under her breast, while she pulls her shirt the rest of the way off.  He looks up at her and she grins at the entranced look on his face as his jaw slackens and he pulls his head back to get a better view.  His scorching gaze brands a trail over her exposed skin as he takes her in and she’s already writhing inside.

“ _Fuck,_ Clarke… Look at you.”  She tucks her chin to her chest to hide her face, but quickly bites back her embarrassment and meets his eyes again.  He grins, “I’m going to fucking _wreck_ you.  You know that?”  A sharp, nearly violent shiver shoots through her at his promise. 

“Good.”  She wishes she didn’t sound so breathless…

He smiles up at her like she hung the damn moon, and she can feel his warmth flow into her everywhere his skin touches hers.  She squirms to get his attention so he'll get moving again, so he hooks his fingers into the waistband of her sleep shorts and tugs down just slightly.  He closes his eyes and pauses again, much to her chagrin.

She wiggles her hips and whines, “ _Bellamy_ …” 

He blows out a chest full of air, “Clarke… you’re not wearing underwear…”

She sighs and her hands come up to play with his inky curls, “I never wear underwear to bed…”  She shrugs, “I mean, why bother, when it just gets in the way?” 

The hand on her hip flinches and he curses under his breath.  He drops his head forward, then looks back up at her like he can’t quite believe what he just heard.  He tugs her shorts down her hips and goosebumps erupt over her whole body at the wisp of contact on her legs as the fabric falls the rest of the way down to the floor.  There’s something unbelievably erotic about the possessive path of his hands as they travel from the backs of her knees and up her thighs until the come to rest on her ass. 

He kneads his large, strong fingers into her ass cheeks, “You’re fucking incredible…” 

He pulls her forward and brings his mouth to her breasts while she continues to tangle her fingers in his thick hair, pulling just a little when he does something she really likes.  His tongue flicks against her nipple before he draws it into his mouth and laves it over the pebbled peak.  His hand kneads at her other breast, pinches her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.  She releases encouraging whimpers while he mouths at her breasts, and when his free hand parts her dripping folds, she lets go a lecherous moan that may have woken up the rest of the house.  Not that she gives a damn.   

“Fuck, Clarke you’re wet.” 

She nods, “Well, I was a bit worked-up tonight.  Although,” She chides, “I have to say, without the interruption, I would have probably come at least once by now.” 

He looks up at her, amused, “Is that right?”  He chuckles while he nibbles along her stomach. 

Clarke nods, “Yeah… Now get to work.” 

Without warning, he rises to his feet and picks her up off the floor, then drops her unceremoniously onto the mattress.  Clarke shrieks a surprised laugh as she bounces on landing, but she meets Bellamy’s heated gaze and a shiver of lustful warmth and anticipation shoots through her.  She sits up on her elbows, watches as he stalks toward her on the bed.

She can see his imprint on her skin, a trail of red to orange hues bloom, radiate from each place his skin touches hers.  Never in her life has she seen the colors more clearly than she does tonight.  Bellamy is always surrounded by a very notably deep red aura, but tonight it’s more of a clear red.  It’s the color of _need_.  She knows she typically gives off a yellow, sometimes orange-yellow hue.  But she’s enthralled by the fiery spectrum that seems to radiate from both of them.  His deep voice interrupts her thoughts.

“You’re telling me that you don’t tease yourself first?”  He pulls her legs apart and settles between them while he slides his palms slowly and heavily up her inner thighs, pressing her even wider as he approaches her pelvis.  He continues to talk while his thumbs rub gentle, torturous circles in the hollows of her hips.  “You don’t like to draw it out?  Get yourself close to the edge, then back down before you go all the way over?” 

Clarke sighs, and is honestly surprised she’s able to even _think_ coherently with Bellamy’s graveled voice surrounding her.  “Sometimes I do.  But I’ve been so busy – I don’t know if I’ll even get to finish half the time because something always comes up.”  She huffs, “Lately it’s just been… getting myself off as fast as I can before I’m interrupted.”  He looks up at her like he’s genuinely upset that she hasn’t had her sexual needs thoroughly met.  She feels his thumbs make their way to her labia, applying maddeningly gentle pressure.

“Fuck that… I’m gonna take care of you.”  Her breath catches in her throat as he gently parts her lips with his thumbs.  He turns his head, presses his forehead against her inner thigh, as if he’s trying to compose himself.  He looks back up, his gaze transfixed on her cunt, “You’re _dripping_ wet, Clarke... It's fucking hot.”  She finds she can’t do much more than whimper in response.  He looks her in the eye with a wolfish grin while he watches her squirm in anticipation.  She tries to wiggle her hips but finds she’s immobilized by his strength, and _shit_ , that’s incredibly hot. 

“I got you.  Just relax.  Can you do that for me?” 

Clarke nods and does her best to relax her muscles.  She lets her arms and legs fall slack against the mattress, lets her head drop back on his pillow and turns her face into it to breathe in his scent.  He’s fucking intoxicating.  It’s a little surreal, being in his bed, about to find out for herself if the reality of Bellamy Blake is as good as her many fantasies…  She laughs a little inside, because already, he’s more than she ever expected. 

She shivers when he traces the edges of her slit with his tongue, and her body practically vibrates in wait.  Bellamy keeps her there, wanting, until she whines his name, _“Bellamy…”_   And it’s like the dam breaks. He finally licks deeply into her, bumps his nose against her clit in the process.  Each contact with the bundle of nerves makes her limbs jerk, then he closes his lips over it and draws it into his mouth.  His fingers work her over from the inside while his mouth takes her apart.  Wisps of something invisible brush down her sides, and she knows that’s his doing.  _Of course_ he would make sex literally fucking magical… 

Within minutes, that sweet pressure builds from her core, but before she finds release, he slows down, draws her back.  Oh,  _th_ _is_ is what he was talking about… It’s a gentle rise and fall of pleasure, and her mind is lost to the indulgence he gives to her. 

“Clarke,” His voice is rough, “C’mon, play with your tits for me.”  She tries to laugh at the vulgarity of his words, but her body seems to be capable of only gasps and moans.  She’s not sure if his demand is more for her pleasure or his amusement, but complies nonetheless.  When she tweaks the sensitive peaks between her fingers, the zing of pleasure shoots straight to her throbbing clit, and it’s almost too much.  He grinds himself against the mattress while he’s feasting on her, and _oh god_ he gets off on getting her off.  She loses count of how many times he edges her, each time the heated pressure coiling tighter, getting her there faster with each pass until it won’t be held back any more. 

Finally, _finally_ her body goes rigid with ecstasy, her back arched, mouth open in a silent cry that materializes into a wrecked moan as bliss pulses through her satisfied form.  As she comes around, she feels limp, nearly boneless.  She opens her eyes to his smug smirk.

Clarke huffs, still trying to gather her wits about her, “You know damn well you’re talented… Do you really need me to stroke your ego further?”

Bellamy shakes his head with a grin, “I’d say you’ve made your endorsement known… loudly.”  His heated gaze doesn’t leave hers as he pushes himself up off of her, then sits back on his heels. 

“I can think of other things that need stroking.”  Her words are caught on a hitched breath as she catches another glimpse of him.  Clarke can’t control her lust when she sees his heavy cock bob up and down with his movements.  He catches her looking and gives her a knowing grin while he wraps his hand around himself and begins to stroke slowly. 

Clarke clears her throat, “Let me.” 

Bellamy drops his hands to his sides and smirks, “If you insist.” 

She licks the palm of her hand so it’s wet and slick, then wraps it around his hard length, slightly intimidated by the fact that his girth is so wide she can barely make her fingers meet.  A groan escapes her at the sight of the viscous pre-come weeping from the tip.  She catches some on the index finger, then brings it to her lips, tastes its salty flavor on the tip of her tongue.  She gives him a sultry grin when she hears a string of profanities fall from his lips, then bends forward to flick her tongue at the head of his cock.  She steadies the jerk of his hips with her other hand, digs her fingers into his side while she slides her tongue around his inner ring of foreskin, then closes her mouth around him.  As she envelops him in her mouth, she feels the heel of his hand move down her spine and groans as she realizes that both of his hands are on her head.  She would roll her eyes at the arrogant displays of skilled sorcery, but she’s too fucking turned on right now. 

She takes him just a few inches at first, a little farther with each bob of her head, until he hits the back of her throat and she gags a little.  Not to be deterred, she recovers without taking her mouth away from him.  She does it again, each time her throat a little less affected by the intrusion, and works the rest of his cock with her free hand.  Warmth floods her body when he gathers her hair away from her face with his large hands and twists it gently around his fist. 

The graveled quality of his voice sends a shiver own her spine when tells her, “Look at me, Clarke.”  

She opens her eyes, and the lust in his gaze hits her like a freight train.  He chokes out a plea for her to stop. 

“Fuck, fuck-” With her hair wrapped around his fist, he pulls her face away from him.  “Fuck, gotta stop that.”  Clarke is taken aback, mind reeling as she sits up straight. 

“What?”  She frowns, “Why, did I do something wrong?” 

He laughs, kindly, while he pulls her head up to his, “Fuck, no.”  He kisses her lips soft and quick, “You have any idea how incredible you look?  How fucking beautiful you are?”  Clarke knows she looks good, but she wasn’t convinced that Bellamy had taken much notice beyond occasionally, though not unsubtly, checking out her boobs when she wears low-cut shirts. 

“Tell me.” 

He growls against her neck as he presses open mouth kisses from her ear to her collarbone, “It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.  You, sucking my cock, with your eyes closed like my cock was the best goddamn thing you’ve had your mouth on.”

She smiles, “Keep going.”  She isn’t remotely surprised that he’s this good at talking dirty. 

He chuckles, “I didn’t think anything could get hotter than that.”  She shivers as his breath fans over her shoulder, “Then I told you to look up at me, and _shit_ …  Seeing your eyes wide, your lips stretched around my cock, feeling your tongue quiver against me?  I nearly fucking came right then and there.” 

Clarke is a little light-headed at his words, “ _…Fuck._ ” 

Bellamy laughs again, brings his lips back to hers, “Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping to do here.” 

“Yeah?”  She can’t hold back a smile.

His voice is deep and penetrating, “You want me to fuck you, baby?” 

She nods slowly “I really, really do.” 

He purrs in her ear and she can hear the smirk in his voice, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, Clarke.”  She can only whimper as her heart races with excitement, her body thrums with anticipation for what he has in store. 

He asks against her skin, “What are your plans tomorrow?” 

She shrugs, “It’s Saturday, and I don’t have work.  My actual plans are to do nothing…” 

He pulls his head back to look at her, “Glad to hear that.” 

She gives him a sidelong glance, “Why?” 

He gives her a wicked grin, “Because… you’re going to be fucking _wrecked_ tomorrow.” 

Her voice is remarkably steady when she goads, “You talk a big game, Bellamy…”  Her voice is teasing while she trails her toes along his leg, “I’m hearing a lot of talk, but not much in the way of backing it up, yet.” 

Her provocations work like a charm.   He rolls his eyes while he presses her into the mattress and growls, “I’m _going_ to deliver, Clarke.”  His hands explore her while he murmurs filthy things into her skin, “I’m going to fuck you until the sun comes up… you’ll come ‘til you can’t see straight…” 

Clarke nods, her eyelids fluttering shut, “Please, god… yes.”

Propped up on his forearm, his free hand makes its back to her folds, pulling a gasp from her as he slips his fingers between them.  She gives an eager groan when he plunges one, then two large fingers into her with ease.  Ripples of excitement travel through her as he trails his lips along her neck, laves his tongue over that sensitive spot just behind her ear… All the while, his other hand massages her inner walls, slowly but surely readying her for him.  He crooks his fingers against her and grins at the involuntary whine that escapes her. 

“Oh my god,” She moans when he brings his fingers, shiny with her arousal, to his mouth and sucks them clean with a salacious glint in his eye.  He reaches over to his bedside table and opens a drawer, fumbling for condoms, but coming up empty. 

He drops his head forward, “Fuck, I don’t have condoms.” 

Clarke laughs, “Are you clean?” 

“Yes,” he breathes into her ear so she shivers.

“I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.  We don’t need to condom.” 

He grins, “I can’t fucking _wait_ to be inside you, Clarke…” He hovers above her lips and she can see her own hunger reflected in his dark eyes. 

“Bellamy… _Please_.”  She rolls her hips up and gasps at the feel of his erect cock as it drags up her thigh. 

He trails his hand along her curves, eliciting goosebumps over her entire body.  “This body wants to get fucked, doesn’t it?”  She nods with an indulgent whimper, undeniably excited. 

He lines himself up with her entrance and pauses to collect himself.  He grits out, “You sure? There’s no going back after this, Clarke.” 

She brings a hand up to cup his cheek and nods while she tries to control her excited breaths, “Bellamy, I know.”  She smiles, “I’m sure.”  She wants to wipe away the lines of worry on his forehead.  “I’m not going to regret this.  Will you?” 

He surges down to kiss her, “God, no.” 

She wraps her legs around him as he sinks into her, heavy and hot and perfect.  He kisses her slowly, deeply, as he holds still, buried to the hilt while she adjusts to his intrusion.  After a bit, she rolls her hips against him, telling him to move, and has to pull away to gasp when he grinds into her, his pubic bone hitting her clit in the best way, then pulls out slowly.  Her body already mourns the momentary absence and she pulls his mouth back to hers for a deep kiss.  They both break away, drawing from each other decadent moans as he thrusts back in.   

He goes slowly at first, maintaining a steady, unhurried rhythm that makes her dizzy with need.  She digs her fingers into his back, keens at him as he hits all of her best spots.  He’s at first impervious to her attempts to go faster.  Soon enough, though, he’s snapping his hips into hers while she meets him thrust-for-thrust.  It’s good, and she’s ready to come apart already, but she wants to try something else. 

She pushes him away and takes advantage of his confusion to flip them over.  He laughs softly, clearly not upset by the defeat, as she rolls her body teasingly and sinks down onto him.  She takes in the grin on his face while she rides him.  His hands come up to knead at her bouncing breasts while he thrusts up into her, matching the rhythm she sets. 

He groans, _“Fuck,_ Clarke, that’s fucking hot,” as she grabs onto his knees and leans back on her arms.  Before she tosses her head back, she sees the hungry way he watches his cock disappear into her.  “Can you come on my cock?”  She nods, because yeah, this angle is doing it for her.  “C’mon, do it, I wanna feel you.”  That sweet pressure coils inside of her as she moves, and she’s ready to combust.  She comes within seconds of his thumb pressing to her clit while his other hand squeezes her burning thigh muscles.  Her body is tensed in climax while he drives himself up, deep into her and holds himself there, his thumb still pressing tight circles on her clit.  Through the ringing in her ears, she can hear snippets of Bellamy’s vulgar encouragements, “Feels so good… you around me like this…”

She falls forward as he sits up and captures his mouth with her own, kisses him deeply, intoxicated by the way he surrounds every part of her.  He wraps her legs back around him and she hooks her ankles together. 

“Hold on” he tells her against her lips, and flips them back over.  He pulls out and unhooks one of her legs and brings it forward, presses it against her chest and spreads her wide open as he sinks back into her. 

Clarke starts to lose focus on anything except the pleasure that fills her from her core to her fingertips, as he drives into her with a punishing rhythm.  Something like fire roars through their veins as they chase climax together, fingers laced, her head thrown back while he devours her neck.  It builds and builds inside her until she can’t hold back.  She lets go a wrecked cry as she falls apart under him, the bliss rippling through her in waves.  His rhythm falters as he nears completion and his hips jerk as he comes, his groans wild in her ears as he buries his face against her neck.  She feels utterly consumed as his body shudders above her, his cock twitching inside of her as she clenches rhythmically around him.   

Clarke trails her fingers along his sweat-soaked back, kisses his temple as they both catch their breath.  This is all still very… surreal.  She laughs softly, as she gently scratches his scalp. 

He lifts his head to look at her, his eyes narrowed playfully, “Something funny?” 

She shakes her head, “I’m just happy.”  She tries to move his unruly hair from covering his eyes and laughs again as it refuses to be tamed.  “Your hair is ridiculous.”  He just grins at her, not offended, and she smiles, “A little bit wild, disobedient, doesn’t like to be controlled… It fits you.”

He nods with a chuckle, “I hadn’t looked at it that way.  But sure.”  He presses his lips to her forehead and she closes her eyes at the tender gesture.  “You freaking out on me?”  

She shakes her head, “Not in a bad way.  I’m a little bit excessively excited inside, I won’t lie.” 

Bellamy’s smile could replace the sun, “Yeah.  Me too.”

Clarke smiles back, “This is good, though.” 

He kisses her quick on the lips, “Yeah, it’s good.” 

“Really good.”  She pulls him back down for a deep, soul-consuming kiss.  It’s slow, but purposeful, and she can feel his energy in her veins.  As they roll to their sides, she feels wisps and touches along her legs and arms, through her hair, like he’s everywhere. 

She pulls back, “How are you doing that?  Like, it feels like your hands are all over me.”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, I’ve always been able to do it.” 

She nods, “Huh.  Well, it’s… handy.” 

Bellamy smirks, “Oh, I’ve just gotten started.” 

She chides, “I would hope so…  I mean, my vision is still fine.”  The air around them is suddenly charged all over again, “If I remember correctly, you promised something about so many orgasms I can’t see straight.” 

He laughs as he makes his way down her bare body, “You're going to eat your words, Clarke.” 

Clarke huffs, as if to challenge him, “Then how about you stop talking and-” Her speech is cut off by a licentious moan as his tongue works its way into her folds. 

While his fingers work all kinds of magic inside of her, Bellamy lifts his head away briefly and grins at her blissed-out expression.  “You were saying?” 

Yeah, she’s pretty confident he’ll make good on that promise. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (lol okay, I don't give public gifts to people who try to publicly disgrace their former friends to win favor of new friends. Fuck that shit. So yes ,this used to be a gift for Lina/thatweirdparamedicstudent. Call it had form if you want, but I took it back because no, I don't want to be associated with her... Or make give the illusion that I support her duplicitous self. Watch out for snakes in the grass, people...)


End file.
